


"So when does it end?"

by what_a_dork_fish



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: Apocalypse, X-Men: Days of Future Past
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Separation Anxiety, why do I do this to my grandson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: Sometimes Peter thinks too fast.





	"So when does it end?"

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this is going, I have no idea how long it will be, and I have no idea why I'm even writing this except to torture myself.

Sometimes he thinks too fast.

It’s always been like this. Sometimes he’ll be so bored with how slow the world is, and then suddenly it stops and his heart starts beating a million miles a minute and he can’t breathe and he has a feeling of crushing, impending doom. Something’s going to happen. He doesn’t know what, but _something_ is going to happen. And with everything halted, he has time to think about everything that could ever go wrong, and how it _is_ going to go wrong, and what the consequences are going to be, and how it’s all going to result in the world ending.

He hates when the world stops like that.

No one ever notices anything happening to him except Wanda. And no one believes her when she insists Peter is scared. He doesn’t let them. He doesn’t want anyone to see him as some scared baby. He’s seventeen, he shouldn’t be getting scared over nothing.

In the car with these strangers, the awkward guy, the homeless man, and the guy with claws, he has one of those moments where the world freezes and panic crashes through him, making him vibrate with fear, as everything that could possibly go wrong floods his mind. Suspicions that are baseless and yet make far too much sense chase each other around inside his skull. Reminders that this is fucking _treason_ pop up helpfully every so often. He’s so scared he could cry.

And then the world begins to spin again, and the fear abates into a general uneasiness. Peter is brave. He always has been. It’s just that sometimes his bravery gives out. He can shore it up again, though.

“Peter?”

“Hmm?” he says, studiously staring out the window.

“Are you alright?” the homeless man, Charles, asks.

“Fine,” Peter answers, because he can’t manage much more than short responses after the world stops. Wanda can make him talk, but no one else can. Not even mom or his baby sister.

Thankfully, no one tries to get him to explain why he’s suddenly subdued. The car ride to DC is quiet, and Peter is grateful. Even if it is too slow.

~

It’s not hard to break into the Pentagon. Just run so fast the cameras can’t catch him. He lies in wait and darts through doors when they open, too fast for people to spot him. That’s how he makes it all the way to the elevator. By that time he’s positive Awkward Hank has messed with the cameras, so he lounges in the corner and sighs loudly at how long this is taking. Elevators are always slow.

They’re also very small, and Peter doesn’t like small spaces. Not enough room to run.

He’s keyed up and excited, so when the world stops, he’s mostly just resigned.

What if Hank messes up? What if this is the wrong time of day? What if Peter is caught in the elevator with the wrong person? What if Charles and Logan don’t make it down in time to get them out? What if what if what if what if--

The elevator dings. The world snaps into motion again. The guard steps inside the elevator, so slowly, and turns his head with a puzzled frown--

Peter’s got him taped to the wall in no time, and changes into his uniform before the guard can even comprehend what’s happening. Then there’s nothing to do but wait to get to the bottom.

Peter doesn’t like waiting. Never has, never will. But he can do it. He has to, with the world moving so slowly all the time. He’s learned patience. Sort of.

Everything stops again, his heart pounding in his ears, his body going numb, everything flashing through his mind so fast even _he_ can’t keep up. Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhatif--

It takes longer for the world to start moving again this time. His heart doesn’t slow down for several minutes, and then he’s stepping out of the elevator.

Walking down the halls gives him time to calm down. He’s slightly nervous, but not afraid. He’s not afraid when the other guards frown at him, then pass him over as just a new kid. He’s not afraid when the one guy turns the key and the block of concrete moves out of the way. He’s not afraid when he walks into the “cell” and walks over to drop the meal tray down the little chute.

He gives a little smile when the prisoner looks up at him, and the smile widens as the prisoner’s puzzled expression becomes unamused.

Carefully, Peter crouches and places his hands on one of the panes of glass. Idiots, they should’ve gone with plastic. But Peter takes a deep breath and uses all that residual fear and a good dose of anger to make his hands begin to vibrate. He finds the exact right frequency in moments, and grins as he realizes that he’s really gonna do it. He’s really going to break a prisoner out of the Pentagon. This is going to be his greatest achievement. Nothing is going to top this.

Wanda is gonna be so pissed that she missed this.

The glass shatters, not just the single pane but _all_ of the glass, which is not what Peter expected. Just as he begins to wonder if the prisoner is alright, an alarm sounds, lights flash, and the block slides in front of the exit.

~

Going home is a letdown. The car ride is very awkward, and the jet they came in is pretty damn cool, but after that, they just send Peter home.

Mom is livid that he would just waltz out of the house like that with no explanation and come back days late. He can’t even think of a good lie, so he settles for, “Some stuff came up, that’s all. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.” And he really is.

But he’s sorrier when Wanda catches him later that night, when mom and Princess (she’s insisting that everyone call her that) are in bed, and makes him tell her everything.

“And you didn’t bring me?!” she snarls, standing over him as he sits on his bed in the basement, her hands on her hips, looking ready to punch him like she used to when they were little. “I could’ve helped! I could’ve gotten you in and out way faster! And what if the world had stopped?”

“It did,” Peter confesses. “Like, three times.”

Wanda’s ire backs down a few steps, but she’s still angry. “Did you tell anyone?” she demands.

“No,” he replies.

“Peter--” She looks away, tossing her head a little to get her hair out of her face. Then she sighs shortly. Peter waits, cringing, for her to say something.

“You’re my twin and I love you,” she begins, still looking away, “But you’re also an idiot.”

“I know,” he acknowledges miserably. He was wrong to think she’d have wanted to go for the sake of the adventure. She’d wanted to take care of him, keep him safe, like she did when the bullies on the playground made fun of him for being hyperkinetic. (He’s not sure if that diagnosis is correct anymore, but he can’t really get rid of the stigma at this point in life.) Wanda likes adventures too--but she likes _legal_ ones. The illegal ones, she just wants to keep Peter from getting hurt or caught.

He tugs her sleeve. She sits down beside him and hugs him. He hugs back, tightly. He should have told her. They’re _twins_ , for fuck’s sake. “I’m sorry,” he says, and he means it.

Wanda sighs again. “It’s not okay, but I forgive you,” she replies. “Just _tell me_ next time you go off and do something stupid.”

Peter smiles wanly, though she can’t see. “I promise.”

~

Mom breaks bad news over breakfast.

“Wanda, you’re going to stay with Aunt Milly for a while,” she says, as soon as Wanda and Peter both have their mouths full of oatmeal.

Her plan to keep them silent while they chew and swallow, as manners dictate, fails when they both spit out their mouthfuls and screech, “ _WHAT!_ ”

“No yelling at the table,” mom snaps. “Aunt Milly is sick and needs someone to help around the house. Since Peter is grounded until he’s twenty,” a sharp glare cuts off his protest early “Wanda is going.”

“But mom, what about school?” Wanda points out desperately, “I can’t just quit during senior year and not graduate!”

“You’re taking exams early, I’ve worked it out with the school already,” mom answers. “And don’t tell me you can’t do it, because I know for a fact you’ve been working ahead.” Mom turns a glare on Peter, who’s gaping like a fish. “I’d send you, since I know you’re planning on dropping out, but you aren’t going anywhere after that stunt you pulled a few days ago,” she tells him tartly.

“But--”

“No buts, from either of you.”

It’s clear that mom has thought it all out and planned it, and there’s no way they’re going to change her mind. Princess cries because as much as she pretends to hate her older siblings, she really does love Wanda. Peter tries to argue anyway, because he can’t survive without his twin, he really can’t--she’s the only one who really knows him and what it’s like and can get him calmed down and can break the doubts that hit him almost as often as the world-stopping. Not even mom knows him as well as Wanda does.

Wanda is silent, lips pressed together tightly, and her eyes shining with unshed tears. She’s not sad; she’s angry. Peter can almost hear the sizzling power already.

Eventually Peter gives up, and they all eat in silence, though Princess still hiccups and sniffles. When they’re done, the three Maximoff children go to their rooms and stew.

Peter hasn’t cried since he was little, but he curls up in the dark space under the stairs to the basement and sniffles a little. He relies too much on his twin, he knows that; he puts too much strain on her. He puts too much strain on mom, too. He knows he’s a burden. But why does Wanda have to go _now_?

~

A few days later, Wanda is gone. Peter and Princess sit in front of the tv, Peter feeling dull and empty. They’re watching the president’s speech because why not, there’s nothing good on.

And then he spots Charles, Logan, and Hank.

He frowns, squints at the screen. That’s them, alright. Why is Charles in a wheelchair? What’s going on? Are they going to--

Even Princess’ attention is caught when everyone starts running and screaming.

Peter and Wanda had talked it over. They’d examined the possibility, and discarded it as too much of a coincidence. Why would--how _could_ \--a murderer be their father?

Peter hears mom drop a dish in the kitchen. It shatters. The world stops.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments = Life, Love, and Happiness


End file.
